Something's Going Down In Old Chicago Town
by Nimbus Llewelyn
Summary: Harry is back doing what he does best, detecting, while being the Winter Knight. And the White Council want him to investigate a mysterious blue box...Dresden AU, set well post Ghost Story. Whoniverse early series 6 pt 2. Swapping fandoms for max exposure
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: First things first, I am aware this is a crossover, but I'm putting it in one fandom at a time for maximum exposure.**

**This is the first Dresden fic of any sort that I have written, so please take that into consideration, though I have written several Doctor who fics before. Anything you recognise, I do not own. It's unbeta'd but if anyone wants to offer, PM me.**

It had been a normal day. I had got up, fed Mouse, who was taking a break from guarding my daughter, who for understandable reasons, I was avoiding, and Mister, who had accepted my return from the dead with total equanimity, the latter performing his usual ritual of eating some of Mouse's food, tipped the bowl over, and then retreated to his own bowl with the unique haughtiness only found in cats. And White Court Vampires. An uncharitable person (me) with a suspicious turn of mind (also me) would speculate that the two were somehow connected.

However I had more important things to do than mull over the possible connections between cats and White court vampires. Though, late Madeline Raith had reminded me a lot of a spoilt Persian. Lara reminded more of a recently fed lioness. Beautiful, deadly, and not too interested in killing you right now.

The previous week Captain Luccio had called me and said that a mysterious blue box had been seen around the world near the homes of wizards. Rather more helpfully, the Paranet had noticed the same thing, and actually taken photos of the thing, which Elaine had passed on to me one evening last week at Mac's. I sat back, holding a cup of the liquid ambrosia that is coffee, and remembered that night.

I was sitting in Mac's enjoying some that holy liquid which is his home brewed beer. Unfortunately it was warm, but I think Mac might have killed me if I had suggested serving it cold. I made do with creating a very small fireball from the heat in the beer. Hey, I'm an American, we like our beer cold, and the design of Mac's tavern meant the spell soon dissipated.

Ok, it scorched one of my eyebrows, but it had been a long day. I could have used my Winter Knight ice powers, but after 5 months of being resurrected I still wasn't entirely used to them, and didn't totally trust them. Besides, I wanted a cold beer, not a beer-sicle.

Chasing demons into the sewers to retrieve a small child they had taken is hard work, especially when one wrong spark could have set the foetid air alight. Me being me and having the worst luck known to wizard kind, it did. Another set of clothes ruined. The kid was fine and of course decided my hair was a good thing to pull. It is hard to play dignified wizardly hero when you smell like char grilled sewage and have a kid pulling your hair. I really have to get a hat. A really cool hat of course.

Elaine had dropped me a line saying she had a lead in what I had privately termed 'The wild blue box chase'. I eyed the door as it opened, admitting a pair of very shapely legs and their owner a moment later. I regarded the legs appreciatively, and then let my eyes move up her body to her face, a very pretty face which sported a wry smile and a cocked eyebrow.

"Have you finished staring, or are you going to buy me a drink and get down to business?" She asked dryly.

"One moment." I dropped my gaze again, examined her body once more (and very nice it was t-I should really stop doing that) then looked up at her face again. "All done." I replied. She swatted me round the head gently, then glanced pointedly at the bar. I took the hint and got up, wandering over to the bar and bought two beers.

I sat back down and examined the photos that I immediately deduced with my uncanny PI skills she had spread on the table while I was at the bar. The pictures depicted a largish blue box, about 8 feet tall, and made of wood. What was puzzling was that one picture had managed to catch the box fading away.

Elaine tapped the photo and said, "The Paranet says that they've seen it appear and disappear, making a sort of loud wheezing noise as it does. And," As she said this she laid a final photo on the table. "These three were seen nearby it each time. This one was taken by a low level practitioner in New York in Central Park. She's an amateur photographer." The photo depicted two young men, one dressed normally, the other wearing a ¾ lenth brown leathery coat and a bow tie of all things, and a pretty young woman with fiery red hair and legs that put even Elaine and Susan's to shame- I veered away from that thought, my eyes tearing up momentarily.

I wiped my eyes and took in the details. It was a good photo, presumably down from reasonably close with a long zoom. The red head and the normally dressed young man with the largish nose stood together in a manner seen in loving couples all over the world. There was one sparkle each on one of the couples 'hands, wedding rings by the looks. They looked happy I thought, the man looking slightly protective, and the woman not minding it as long as it didn't get in the way. When your survival depends on judging body language, you become fluent fast.

I took the photos and put them away in my new coats pockets. I felt a pair of hands hold my unoccupied hand gently. When I looked up, Elaine was regarding me sympathetically. She hadn't missed the tears in my eyes, and she had probably guessed why. Damn all intuitive exes. Especially magical ones.

"I'm…so sorry for your loss Harry." She said, at first at a loss for words, like most humans in such a situation. Like most humans she stuck to the formula. Like most humans, she left immediately afterwards. And there I was drinking alone in a bar, stubbly and most morose. Go gadget drama cliché.

I shook myself mentally, cudgelled my brain into action and do what I did best. Find things and blow things up. And get some sleep. Though that requires less cool magic and explosions.

Back in the present, I wandered down to the basement of my new apartment (somehow I had managed to find one that matched my old one almost exactly. I briefly wondered whether Lea, my psychotic Faerie godmother, had also moved, and how she had managed to move her giant centipede things. I dismissed the thought. Wondering about the real estate habits of one's Axe Crazy Faerie Godmother was not healthy, even by my standards), grabbing my robe as I went, having been rendered coherent by the miracle that is coffee.

"Wakey-wakey Bob!" I carolled. Note to self. Find lower caffeine version of coffee. When you get to carolling short of an adrenaline high, you know you're drinking something odd.

"Ugh, you never used to be this much of a morning person. What do you want?" Was the surly reply from my resident factotum and skull bound minion. A rather grumpy factotum and skull bound minion because when I had reacquired him from Butters, he had been denied a 24/7 free access pass to all the Internet porn in existence. Much of the grumpiness had abated when I gave him a blow by blow account of my, ahem, encounter with Mab, when I became the Winter Knight. That and buying a stack of old Playboy back issues. However he still resented me a little for all that, and didn't let me forget it.

"We're tracking a big blue box that materialises and dematerialises at will." Bob's skull swivelled around to face me fully, eyelights brighter than usual, denoting extreme interest.

"A big blue police box? Says Police Public call box on it?" I checked the photo's then nodded, rather taken aback at his enthusiasm. Last time he had displayed this level of enthusiasm had been when my half-brother had put me onto a case where the client was a porn film director. I shuddered to think what would spark such interest that could possibly be hidden in a blue box.

"What do you know about it?" I asked, guardedly.

"If you let me out, I can tell you." If he had been human, Bob would have been bouncing up and down. If he were human he would also have been an absolute nightmare to deal with. As it was, his skull bounced gently up and down on the spot.

"All right. For this job, and this job only, you can leave the skull." Since I had been, temporarily, a ghost, I understood and sympathised with his desire to get out more often. Just not enough to release him without lengthy restrictions.

The last time I had released him had been on Valentine's day, about 2 months after I got back, when I had been feeling a tad guilty about denying him his free access internet and rather more charitable towards his circumstances. Cue mass gang bang in the main park. Cue chaos and paroxysms of laughter from Molly and Thomas when they found out, as well as literal howls of laughter from Murphy. They had not let me forget about it. I get no respect.

The cloud of orange mist that was Bob's physical form outside the skull, flowed over the pictures that I had left on the table.

Bob flowed back into the skull and I got the impression of an unusually grave disposition, mixed in with academic interest in the challenge at hand, and, dare I say it, a reasonable amount of fear. Since Bob once provided a mental shield for Murphy who was temping as an Archangel possessed Knight of the Cross (I had yet to work out which one, but theoretically it could have been any of them. Uriel was more subtle, but took a great interest in the Earth and its inhabitants, and it wouldn't be entirely out of character, so it was probably him. Michael was the General and certainly capable of something like that, but took less interest in the Earth, apparently. Gabriel and Raphael were Messenger and Spiritual champion, so I hadn't ruled out either. Murphy had had no idea which one had possessed her, I'd asked. As post coital conversations go, it's an odd one. She also thought it hilarious that I had nicknamed an archangel 'Mr. Sunshine') against the Red King of the Red Court of Vampires, now non-existent, a being that had masqueraded successfully as a powerful god for Millennia. When he was scared of something, it was generally very dangerous.

"Harry, leave this one alone." Yup, scared. Not good.

"Who is it Bob? And why are you scared of them?"

"The one in the long coat is The Doctor. The other two are probably his companions." Bob had gone more than 30 seconds without a wisecrack. I was worried.

"The Doctor? Doctor Who? What is his real name? What's the deal with the box and companions?" I pressed.

"His real name is unknown. Even the Archive wouldn't know it. And he isn't human. He's the last of the Time Lords." Bob had gone a minute without a wisecrack. Make that very worried. "He picks up companions here and there. People seem to gravitate to him like you to a Burger King. The machine is a time travel device known as a TARDIS." Ah, back to normal.

"What is a Time Lord, anyway? I've never heard anyone mention them."

"They're extraterrestrial. Aliens. Or were, all save him and maybe a couple of others. I don't know much about them, only what I picked up when DuMorne left me behind in Edinburgh by accident in the 90's and I got to explore a bit and what I picked up on the net when I was with Butters. Even so, most of the information about them was locked down tight. And they were time travellers."

That shocked me. Bob knew pretty much everything about anything I had encountered, Summer Fae excepted. And I had never heard of anyone time travelling before. The possibilities were too horrible to contemplate. What shocked me the most was the Bob had done something other than surf porn sites when given access to the internet. Mind you, Bob was an information junkie, so maybe I shouldn't have been entirely surprised.

"But, the 6th Law-"

"Harry, even Mab is scared of him!" Bob cut across me sharply. That shut me up.

"Even if she'd never admit it." He continued quietly. "The White Council wouldn't stand a chance. From what I've heard, he's even more unpredictable than he used to be, by mortal standards. The British Government created an entire top secret agency to stop him. You remember the stories in the newspapers, 'The Battle of Canary Wharf'? "

I nodded slowly, dimly remembering the papers describing it as a: 'New 9/11 in the UK'. That and the Paranet, which was going international, had picked up a lot of odd things going on in Britain. Particularly in Wales, for some reason, which was a bit odd, since most of the Ley lines converged in Edinburgh. Possibly because the locals had nothing else to do, other than watch the local visitors from the Spooky side of the spectrum. It was watching them or watching the sheep apparently. Mind you, much of my information was from Steed, who was nothing if not English and thus nothing if not biased.

"He was the one who stopped it. And when there was that worldwide poisonous fog around. And much more." Bob looked at me slyly, insomuch as a skull with pinpoints of light for eyes can look at anyone slyly. "He makes your world saving antics look amateurish." Here he sniffed. "At least he occasionally takes credit for it." Yep, Bob was back to normal. "And he surrounds himself with gorgeous women."

At that point things went downhill. Molly had been taking lessons on things like potions and thaumaturgy from me, because while Lea had taught her ruthlessly efficiently on the subject of evocation, she was well behind the curve when it came to potions and thaumaturgy, two of the things I was good at. So when she arrived for a lesson that I had forgotten about, made a beeline straight to the basement door and opened it, Bob went, "_Hello_ gorgeous!" in his most lecherous tone of voice.

In the silence that followed, I debated melting Bob's skull, having failed to find my beloved claw hammer in the boxed possessions found in the wreckage of my old home, while Molly stared at Bob.

"Harry, since when did that thing speak?" She asked tentatively, in a am-I-going-mad-boss tone.

"Since I saw a sexy thing like you around!" continued Bob, ramping up the lechery to cheesy levels I had not previously thought possible. I whacked him with my staff.

"Bob, you were supposed to be an inanimate knick-Knack until I said so." I said harshly, as the skull swivelled to glare at me. I ignored him and turned to Molly. "He's an air spirit, a spirit of intellect, he learns really fast and never forgets anything. He's also powerful; knowledge equals power and all that. Remember the halo Murphy had at Chitchen Itza? That was him. Unfortunately he's also sex obsessed, and yes, when you ended up topless in the lab, he was watching." As Molly looked shocked, Bob broke in again.

"I got bored! Besides, you haven't got any action since Luccio, and that was at least 3 years ago now. It's time to branch out! Rediscover your mojo! Get some hot student on teacher action!" I didn't know what was more worrying, Bob's speech, which sounded like a cross between a motivational speech for a self-help video and the blurb of a porn video, or the fact that Molly was eyeing me up speculatively, having got over her shock alarmingly quickly.

"Actually -Bob was it? - He has had some action since then. With Murphy." Molly was now eyeing me up and grinning evilly at the same time. This was something I categorised as very worrying, especially as I had expressly asked all those who had heard/been present at the time and been aware of Bob's existence, to whit, Will and Georgia, Thomas (who had punched me, then hugged me as soon as he saw me. It's a guy thing) Butters and Mortimer, all of whom had been very surprised/pleased to see me back, though none so…emphatically as Murph had been. Turns out she hadn't found that reasonably healthy male, and, I quote, "I'm not letting you out of my sight this time". I had asked Molly to keep it quiet on general principles later. This was why.

"Wow! You got with the sexy cop chick! Way to go stud! Get with the apprentice, then and complete the kinky friends with benefits circle!" Bob was now ecstatic, his skull rattling. Molly was grinning at me and I felt got at. And then, with timing that I suspected was more due to divine intervention than anything else, the phone rang. I sprinted out of the basement with the sort of acceleration that put 100 metre sprinters to shame.

"Yes?" I barked down the phone. No, not like that, that's what I have Mouse for. Speaking of which, he was lying on the floor looking at me with a doggy grin that suggested his distinctly superior to canine intellect had worked what was happening and he was therefore having a good laugh at my expense. Mister was curled up on top of him, and spared me a disdainful look before going back to sleep.

"Harry?" Came Thomas's slightly bewildered voice. No sniggering at the back.

"Yeah, it's me." I said, less violently.

"Why are you upset man?"

"Molly found out about Bob. And she told him about Murph and me." I muttered.

Cue roars of laughter. Sometimes I hate my brother, I thought, as I tried not to hex the phone into oblivion. Perhaps I should explain a bit about my half-brother. He's a vampire of the White Court, and an incubus, meaning that he looks like the missing Greek God of Body Cologne and he knows it. Even the guys want him when he turns on the come-hither mojo.

Aside from giving him a physique that would have Michelangelo begging to sculpt it, and supernatural (literally) sex appeal, his vampire nature gave him the ability to move far faster than an ordinary human, be stronger, more agile and heal faster. Once, when he used the full extent of his powers, I saw him go through a pack of ghouls, which are very, very hard to kill, like they weren't there with nothing but my staff. On the deck of a boat.

However there was a trade-off. Every so often he had to top up the vamp tank, feeding off someone through sex, or more accurately intimacy, taking a bite out of their life force (it grew back, but it made the victim more vulnerable to another vampire, depending on how much had been taken, meaning they were at risk of enthrallment). As far as I could see, he had an arrangement which involved messy threesomes with two very attractive women, one of them his true love, Justine (the third person was there to prevent the true love of Justine burning Thomas). Yes, I was ever so slightly jealous of him.

He had decided to reopen his hair salon, complete with faux French accent and Camp Gay persona, and something Justine had given him-a lotion discovered by yours truly (all right. Bob. But I made it) to prevent love burning him temporarily, thus preventing accidents and customers thinking they were being snubbed- which he had closed after an unfortunate incident with a skinwalker (think millennia old shape shifting demi god of sadism), and was having the time of his life. After I had arranged my own assassination (long story) he had insisted on being nearby me at all times, and helping me on cases.

Like Mac, people almost forget he's there (or think he's deaf) so relax and gossip like nothing on earth, which had provided useful information in the past. I had shown him the photos when we had coffee two days ago. If he had heard something, it was probably important and worth listening to, I told myself. No matter how annoying he was being.

Between splutters of laughter, he managed to tell me what he had called me for. A long legged and gorgeous red head (his words, not mine, though I must concur) had come into his salon with two men in tow, one who looked like an awkward husband who was profoundly aware he was in a place that was not the domain of most men, and the other was young but dressed like an eccentric university professor looked thoroughly distracted, wielding an object that glowed, buzzed and looked like a vibrator, all told, causing scandalised giggles to emanate from every corner of the room. The husband had gone beet red, while the other had looked confused until the husband type had whispered in his ear. The odd man had put his vibrator thing in his pocket and grinned brightly at the patrons, then looked awkward while the red head had finished having her hair done.

Once the red head had finished having her hair done, she had crooked her finger at the husband who sighed and handed over the money for the hair cut. He looked a lot happier when she snogged him, though. Thomas had previously explained this as the remnants of his vampire mojo acting on the clients and those close to them, which had caused the odd man to give him a distinctly calculating stare, before putting his arms round the couples shoulder, and strode out, talking about "This great tavern I heard about. All the odd crowd go there, we should fit right in."

"Mac's?" I asked by way of confirmation.

"Mac's." He affirmed. "I'll be there in 20 minutes."

He hung up before I had time to protest. Stupid over-protective older brother.

I grabbed my new duster, Mouse's lead and yelled down into the basement, where Molly and Bob were having a good laugh at my expense, "Grasshopper, I've got a case. Bring the skull up from the basement will you?"

As they walked out of the coffee shop/hairdressers, which Rory had lamented was hideously expensive, the Doctor, steered them down the street, ostensibly towards the bar. A couple of blocks further on, he turned them left into an alley. As soon as he did that, he turned to Amy and asked, "Amy, how do you feel?"

Amy who had been smiling happily all the way down, suddenly looked puzzled. "Like I'm sexy, beautiful and wonderful. And I want to f-"

Rory, displaying commendable presence of mind, snapped his hand across to cover Amy's mouth.

"Yes, that's quite enough Pond," The Doctor said distractedly as he used his sonic screwdriver then stared at the read out, astonished. Then he looked very hard at Amy, and signalled Rory to remove his hand.

"Amy, did you notice anything in particular about that hairdresser?"

"He was really good looking, very attractive and so very, very gay." She replied, leaning over to snog Rory senseless. Again. This time he gently detached her, wondering where the Doctor was going with this.

"What was he Doctor?" Rory asked pointedly.

"An incubus." The Doctor replied, "But not an ordinary one."

"How so?" Rory asked, impatience tingeing his tone.

"He wasn't actively trying to seduce Amy. And he was mostly human. Most succubae and Incubi are not human, some alien some not, but one thing they all share in common is that are obsessed with one very human thing most of the time, even if it is unconsciously. All this one did was leave enough of his psychic energy behind on Amy to make her feel good and…" The Doctor waved his sonic screwdriver at Amy to make his point.

"…want to fuck Rory?" Amy added brightly, causing the Doctor go bright red, as a white sports car whizzed past, going unnoticed by any of them.

"Well…yes."

"More importantly, why is an incubus running an internationally renowned hair dressers and not actively trying to seduce the patrons? And why the horrible French accent?" Rory added, still a little unhappy of the fact an incubus had been up close and personal with his wife.

"Oh Rory, you have so much to learn," Amy said hugging him round the shoulders. "No one will pay that much money to a local hairdresser and everyone thinks male hair dressers are gay."

"Exactly Amy! And _that_ is what our friend the incubus is relying on. Come along Ponds!" The Doctor said, striding ahead, leaving Amy and Rory to follow in his wake. Rory let out a long suffering sigh as his wife dragged him behind like a balloon, following the Doctor, who had just stopped and grasped his head in agony.

"ARGH!"

Rory and Amy dashed up to him, and Amy held him up while Rory examined him quickly, and asked calmly and firmly, "What is it Doctor?"

"Something's touched the TARDIS! She reacted against it!"

"So?" said Amy, wondering how the TARDIS affected the Doctor by striking at something else.

"Telepathic link with the TARDIS! Connected me to both, feel pain of both!" The Doctor yelled in between bouts of writhing agony. Suddenly it stopped, and the Doctor leaned against a nearby wall and panted. Then he shook his head and sprinted off towards the odd pub and where he had left the TARDIS, Amy and Rory giving chase. Something was going badly wrong. Meanwhile, in the shadows, a long, prehensile metal set of strips that had been set to strike retreated with a slithering noise. Something was definitely very wrong in the city of Chicago.


	2. Chapter 2: Confrontation

**A/N: I own nothing you recognise. Chapter 3 is in the works. Seriously, if you like the story enough to favourite it/put it on alert, could you at least tell me why you liked it, or even why you didn't like it.**

I was just about to walk into Mac's when I felt something…odd, at the edge of my senses. Mouse whined, a most uncharacteristic sound, as I extended my wizards senses to see what it was. The answer was something old. And very powerful. But somehow bound…almost like Lash had been towards the end, except with no potential ill will, as if it- she, I felt something suggest insistently, which was disturbing in of itself, was alive and served of her own will.

An old rhyme slipped unexpectedly to the forefront of my brain, a Scottish, female voice whispering, "Something old, something new, something borrowed, something Blue!" You could hear the capital letter on the word blue. Don't ask me how. Sounds like a cool trick to learn though.

I followed the feeling, Mouse not whining, but almost uncertainly alert. This, I thought, was worrying. Mouse had yet to whine at anything, up to and including the Archangel Uriel. Though that could be because he instinctively knew who and what Uriel was. I readied my staff and blasting rod, made sure my revolver was in easy reach, and turned the corner. There, I saw something that made my blood go cold.

Time slowed to a crawl as I saw the big blue box and just in front of it, the man in the coat, the Doctor, leaning over the comatose body of my brother, with his hands against his temples and his eyes closed, the other man, the husband, standing up and dusting off his hands, and the woman watching warily. My mind immediately jumped to the conclusion of: mind mojo. Someone was messing with my brothers head, I thought, rage mounting. And the Doctor wasn't human, so if what I did next killed him, the Council could whistle in the wind for all I cared. With the cool, detached focus that came with being the Winter Knight, channelling my rage through my staff into a tight, focused, soulfire enhanced strike. "Forzare!" I roared, loosing the blast from my staff, aimed right at the Doctor. As I did, I saw the husband and wife look up in something close to outright horror, and I felt like I was being clubbed around the head by something heavy, and then got a vague impression of a something navy blue at the edge of my awareness, Mouse growling. Everything faded to darkness.

Amy and Rory watched horrified, as the exceptionally tall man in the long black coat shouted something in panic stricken and angry tones, aimed his walking stick at the Doctor, and a silvery force issuing from the end and shooting straight at the Doctor before they had time to express a warning. The Doctor was sent flying backwards into the Tardis with bone crunching force. As Rory dashed over to see what he could do to help him, the man's dog growled and there was the crack of something heavy coming into contact with a human skull, and another man in a long blue coat, which Amy noted, was part of a theme today. As the tall man folded up into unconsciousness, the man in the blue coat caught him and carefully lowered him to the ground, eliciting a worried growl from the dog, which, surprisingly, despite its apparent size and ferocity, didn't attack, suggesting a mind more calculating than the average dog's at work behind its worried eyes.

Indeed, as Amy watched, the man in the blue coat, a very handsome man she could now see, his face awash with concern, stood back and let the dog sniff at the tall man.

"Who are you?" The man in the blue coat asked sharply in an American accent that held hints of a British accent, suggesting that he had been in Britain for a long time. Not angrily, just sharply, as he strode forward, as if he had other things on his mind.

"I'm Amy Pond" she replied just as sharply, and added, "And who are you? Thanks by the way, but who are you?"

He flashed her a grin as he knelt next to the Doctor, who Rory was checking anxiously. "I'm Captain Jack Harkness, pretty Miss Amy Pond." Amy knew by his tone he was flirting pretty much as a matter of course. She had met a couple of guys like that at university, and while she had appreciated their attentions, she had always been only interested in Rory. Unfortunately, Rory didn't see it that way, and snapped, "Oi! That's my wife."

Captain Jack raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning, and said, turning on the charm, "Sorry, I didn't see the ring." He extended a hand. "Good to meetcha, Mister Pond." Amy almost collapsed laughing, remembering the wedding, when the TARDIS had materialised in the middle of the dance floor and the Doctor had referred to Rory in front of everyone as 'Mister Pond', then cut him off when he had tried to say it was the other way around. Rory scowled slightly at Amy, then shook Jack's hand, saying, "It's Rory. Rory Williams," placing special emphasis on the Williams part of his name while testing the Doctor's ribs for broken bones.

"Ah." Jack said understandingly, lifting the Doctor up by his armpits. Then he kissed him, hard. Amy gasped in shock as Rory just gaped. The Doctor breathed in suddenly, and pushed Jack off him hard.

"Jack?" He spluttered, wiping his mouth, and glaring at Jack.

"Hi Doctor. Thought you needed a shock." Jack replied, grinning unrepentantly.

"…Well…next time, not like that!" The Doctor mumbled, looking first at the hairdresser, who seemed indefinably different from how he had been in the shop, dress sense aside, then at the man Jack had knocked out, and finally at the large dog that was standing sentry over his body.

"Ooh, a Foo dog! I haven't seen one of those in a very long time." He immediately darted to the other end of the alley where the dog, which Amy and Rory were eyeing warily, Jack with a degree of interest.

"Doctor, is that a dog, or a small bear?" Amy asked. "It's enormous!"

"Yes Amy, he is a dog, and a very special one aren't you boy? Jack stop sniggering." The Doctor said, cooing over the dog in question, whose face said clearer than words, 'I won't be charmed that easily, but I appreciate the attention'.

"And his name is Mouse." The Doctor added, which caused Amy and Rory to gape at him. Jack, being more used to the Doctor's many eccentricities just kept an eye on the dog.

The Doctor turned and grinned at the Pond's and said, "I speak dog."

"So what's the deal with the big guy?" Jack asked, rolling his eyes at the Doctor. "I was following him because I heard rumours that all the local supernatural nasties were scared stiff of him, and I had little else to do. From the little I heard he doesn't usually do what he did to you Doctor. Not without a very good reason."

"I'm not sure," The Doctor murmured, eyeing the recumbent man curiously, scanning him with the sonic screwdriver. He looked at the reading, shook the screwdriver, scanned him again, then glared at it.

"What is it Doctor?" Jack and Rory asked at exactly the same time. They looked at each other, grinned, on Rory's part rather reluctantly, and shut up.

"This person is human, but he's giving off impossible amounts of psionic energy." The Doctor frowned and scanned the dog, which gave him a distinctly reproachful look at the buzzing noise, then the bag the man had been carrying. When the Doctor scanned the bag, the sonic screwdriver let off a couple of sparks.

"I'm guessing the bag contains something with even more psi stuff, yeah?" Amy interjected.

Jack grabbed the bag and pulled out a skull. A skull whose eyes suddenly lit up a bright orange. A skull who looked around in evident surprise and said, "Oh crap."

"Doctor, the skull is talking. Is it meant to do that?" Rory asked, wondering, much like Molly that same day, if he had gone mad.

"The skull is meant to talk, thank you very much, and it can answer for itself." The skull replied acidly. "The names Bob. Just Bob." The skull looked mournful for a second, then perceptibly brightened when it saw Amy. "Helllllooo, gorgeous. May I say you have fantastic legs?"

"First my wife has her hair done by a seemingly flamboyantly gay incubus hairdresser, then Captain Flirt over there makes a pass at her, and now a talking skull called Bob is leching over her." He looked up at the sky despairingly and angrily. "Someone up there is having a great laugh at my expense." Meanwhile, Jack was eyeing the skull in his hands thoughtfully. He turned to the Doctor. "Doc, do you think the skull is even flirtier than I am?"

"Of course not Jack," The Doctor said absently, his mind turning over the possibility of psionic humans in the 21st century. They were not meant to emerge until Jack's time at least. Bob swivelled and glared at Jack.

"Bring it Captain Jack." He said, in the tone of one laying down the gauntlet.

"How do you know who I am?" Jack asked frowning.

"The internet. Torchwood files don't have great security and I was bored."

"You hacked into Torchwood files. Files encrypted so well that several alien species with 5 centuries worth of technological advances ahead of humanity have failed to break through." Jack said disbelievingly. Bob's eyelight's suddenly narrowed.

"Immortal? An immortal human? Amazing! Do you pull the hot chicks with the 'I'm gonna live forever, I've got all the time in the world' line?"

Jack blinked. Amy and Rory were staring at him in disbelief, wondering how the day could get weirder, the Doctor was ignoring them, and Bob the skull was giving him a penetrating stare. "How did you work that one out?"

"I'm a spirit. I see auras. Yours is one I would expect to see in an old wizard, and they live for centuries, though muggins on the floor isn't even 40 yet." Bob said blithely, and then added, "Who did you lose?"

Jack blanched. Anyone who had ever worked with Jack would have wondered if that was even possible, Gwen Cooper aside.

"Well?" Bob prompted. "Your aura looks just like his."

"My…grandson. I killed him, to save millions of children." Jack said, voice suddenly devoid of its usual charm, sounding hollow and bitter. "And…someone else. He died because I fucked up."

Amy gasped, and stepped forward as if to comfort him, but Rory held her back. Instead it was the Doctor who stood up and hugged him, saying simply, "Oh Jack."

"Why weren't you there Doctor? Why? Ianto and Steven died because you weren't there!" Jack yelled, long buried sadness resurfacing.

"It was a fixed point Jack. I could have done nothing, you know that."

Almost as if someone divine was feeling sorry for Rory and Jack, the tall man groaned and tried to get up. Jack, thankful for the distraction, whirled and drew his sidearm, transferring Bob to his left hand, to a cry of "Whee!", and pointed his gun at him.

I groaned and struggled to sit up. As I looked around I saw the Doctor, looking surprisingly well since I'd hit hard enough to drive him through a brick wall, the man in the blue coat, who was holding Bob in one hand and a well-used Webley revolver in the other.

"Wakey-wakey boss, rise and shine!" He said chirpily. Sometimes I hate Bob and his sense of irony.

"Who are you?" Asked the Doctor, revealing a distinctly British accent. "And why did you attack me?" he sounded a little grumpy. I suppose he was kind of entitled to that. I had hit with a massive blast of pure force after all.

"Harry Dresden. Full time Professional Wizard and PI, part time wiseass." I replied, my sarcasm working on automatic. I avoided the second question as a struggled to my feet.

The husband of the gorgeous woman looked at me hard all of a sudden, then back at Thomas, then back to me. Not good. I kept the fact Thomas was my brother a secret for many good reasons, mainly that one of us was bound to be used against the other. And the husband person looked clever. Really not good.

"Nice to meet you Harry, I'm the Doctor, that's Jack in the blue coat, he was the one who hit you," the man with the gun, Jack, nodded warily, but kept his gun trained on me, "And the other two are Amy and Rory." The Doctor said.

I considered telling him that I knew who he was, but decided against it. "I'll ask you again. Why did you attack me?" he suddenly added.

This time there was a slight undertone of menace. Most would have missed it, but I am experienced in dealing with, and being threatened by, dangerous beings, and I marked this one high on the dangerous scale. Just because he had an odd dress sense it didn't mean he wasn't very dangerous. Hell, if Mab was scared of him, he was incredibly dangerous. And one does not cross Mab lightly, believe you me. I had, but it hadn't been lightly. I figured going with the truth was the best option.

"You were reading the mind of a friend of mine. I objected." I replied simply. I hadn't lied. Thomas was a friend of mine. I just hadn't told the whole truth. Important difference.

"No, you didn't just object; you hit me with so much psionic power that you if I had been human, you would have killed me. From what I know of psionic energy, it's mostly emotion driven, and that much power…you were very angry."

He studied my face, then added, "And scared, not for yourself, but for him. What does a wizard have to do with an incubus hair dresser?" This was met with a round of sniggering from those arrayed behind the Doctor, even Mouse let his jaw drop in a doggy grin. Why hadn't he mauled this lot as soon as they dropped me anyway? I've seen Mouse fight, and he is a force to be reckoned with to say the least. I glared at him half-heartedly, and, probably guessing what I was thinking, he kept his doggy grin in place.

At this point, the husband, Rory, broke in in a careful tone, "Doctor, I think they're related." My blood froze. Shit. The Doctor looked at me in a new light, wandered over to my still comatose brother and looked at him, back to me.

"Yes, well spotted Rory. Brothers or cousins, something like that." The Doctor said thoughtfully.

"Then why isn't he," Amy pointed to me, "gorgeous like he is? Or an incubus?" I must have looked indignant, because she looked slightly apologetic, and said, "Sorry, but it's true. You aren't bad looking though. Kinda rugged."

"Yeah, I would say the same," the one called Jack agreed, with a spark of mild interest, that I recognised in retrospect from Molly's eyes, though this was more calculating. "Besides, I reckon they're half-brothers or cousins. Different father. One gets the incubi powers and is therefore drop dead gorgeous, the other gets magic."

"I'm not interested." I stated flatly. Honesty is sometimes the best policy. Jack pouted for a moment then indicated my brother, and said, "What about him? Will he be interested?"

"I doubt it. He has an arrangement with his girlfriend. It involves threesomes with her and a friend of hers, or at least he gets to watch them do it, then he does her." They looked confused, save Jack and the Doctor, who nodded understandingly, enviously in Jack's case.

"What?" Amy asked. "Why?"

"Most incubi are repelled by true love." The Doctor explained, having gone a bit red, "I'm guessing that the other girl mitigates the repelling effect?"

I nodded, impressed. The Doctor may not have come across the White Court before, but he knew his stuff. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Amy looked more than a bit upset, as did Rory. I resolved to mention the lotion ASAP.

"That is the greatest excuse for a threesome I've ever heard." Jack said, amused.

"You never needed one anyway." The Doctor said dryly, causing Jack to grin and shrug.

"Thomas has a hand lotion I made for him. It temporarily stops him getting burned by true love. It makes his job easier." I directed this comment straight at Amy and Rory, who relaxed, practically as one.

"Harry, why didn't you tell me about this?" Bob whined.

"Because then if I ever let you out again, which I probably won't after the gang bang in the park, not without severe restrictions, instead of doing what I asked, you would stalk my brother until he Justine and that friend of hers got together."

Bob sulked. No surprise there.

"Hang on," Amy interrupted, "Bob was responsible for that thing on the news a couple of months ago? I thought it was just everyone celebrating the fact they couldn't die."

"'Mass hysteria' fits rather better on a police statement than 'spiritual possession'." I said dryly.

"All right, let me get this straight," Jack said, stopping to laugh briefly at his own comment, "You attacked the Doctor because you thought he was messing with your incubus relatives head, you're a professional wizard and own a spirit in a skull called Bob that has impossible computer hacking skills."

I nodded. "He's my half-brother." I let a hint of anger enter my voice and the runes on my staff began to glow the bluish white colour of soulfire enhanced magic. "And why hasn't he woken up yet?" Amy and Rory to a step back, not an entirely surprising reaction. When you have an angry nearly 7 foot tall man dressed in a long black coat with a glowing quarter staff glaring at you, it goes from unsurprising to very sensible.

"He's in psychic shock. He touched the TARDIS, which seems to think something dangerous is in town, so she lashed out." The Doctor said. He turned to the box. "That wasn't very nice you know." He told it reprovingly, then turned back to me. "I was just studying his mind to see what precisely he was and why the TARDIS attacked him. She doesn't do it often, and rarely out of panic." He looked pensive and muttered half to himself, "What's going on round here then?"

I was wondering much the same thing.

**In case you're wondering why Jack didn't flirt with Rory was that he was a) busy with the Doctor and b) recognised it would get him nowhere. Jack being Jack however, he'll probably offer a threesome later.**


	3. Chapter 3: Seeing things you shouldn't

**In case you're wondering why Jack didn't flirt with Rory was that he was a) busy with the Doctor and b) recognised it would get him nowhere. Jack being Jack however, he'll probably offer a threesome later. I own nothing save the plot. Sorry it took so long, I've been trying to make sure all the chapters are over 3000 words at least.**

In the tradition of secret societies everywhere, we adjourned to the pub, or in this case, Mac's. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Amy and Rory talked softly to each other, mostly about the beer and all the weird stuff they had come across, from what my Listening picked up. Apparently this was weirder than turning up in the Oval Office during the Moon landings. Maybe that explains Watergate. A large blue police box appearing in the middle of supposedly one of the most secure rooms on the planet would make anyone paranoid.

Jack was drinking his beer with every sign of enjoyment, and was clearly someone who enjoyed a good beer. The Doctor had taken one sip, given Mac a distinctly penetrating stare, which was returned unflinchingly in kind, nodded in what appeared to be a sort of acknowledgement of skill, then continued drinking, and Thomas, who I had insisted on carrying over my shoulder, was recovering on a low down bench with an ice pack on his head, and using the ever patient Mouse as a pillow. I had given Mouse a bowl of water, despite his wistful looks in the direction of my beer. I had told him solemnly, "Once you start drinking, you can never go back", earning me an odd look from Amy and a snort from Jack. Clearly someone who knew from experience

The rest of the clientele, what there was of it, mostly ignored us. It was the supernatural bar in Chicago, and had played host to me, a Red Court Duke, several Knights of the Cross, Kincaid a.k.a The Hellhound and the Archive, Murphy, a Champion of the Summer Court, the Summer Knight (who was somewhat wary about me these days, and I couldn't honestly blame him), the Summer and Winter Ladies at the same time, and a whole bunch of battle hardened Wardens of the Council. This was all a bit much at times for the low level practitioners of the city, especially since that now it was accorded Neutral territory, more of the heavyweights turned up on a regular basis, particularly during the height of the Wizarding/Vampire war. This meant anything odd was mostly ignored, and if I turned up with anyone but Murphy, Mouse or Thomas in tow, people started edging towards the exits.

"Ow…What hit me?" It seemed my brother was once more in the land of the semi comprehensible.

"The Blue Box." At this point I could have been a caring younger brother. However, winding him up was much more fun.

"Now, what you learned today was…"

"Never touch a strange blue box." Wiseass, I thought. Still, two could play at that game.

"Actually I was going for, never run into to trouble without being backed up by your wizardly brother."

"You're the one who was assassinated, not me."

"Details, details," I said, brushing him off, while Mouse wore a doggy grin, "besides, I organised it."

Then I winced. My death was still something of a sore spot for Thomas, because, not without justification, he thought I should have told him. I felt guilty for not having done so, and I also hoped devoutly that he wasn't going to punch me in the face again. Thankfully he only grimaced sourly in acknowledgement, then changed the subject.

"Who are that lot over there? I did the hair of the woman and I assume that's her husband. The other man, if you can call him that, seems to carry some sort of super vibrator everywhere. The other man I don't recognise, but he's emitting more and stronger pheromones than any normal human. And something about him seems…odd. Like a wolf of some sort." He said slowly.

I listened carefully. Since my shooting, I had become a little more cautious, and Thomas's vamp powers, no matter how much he disliked them had the advantage of always on and were good indicators of when I needed to extend my own more powerful magical senses. I extended my own senses carefully.

Amy seemed perfectly normal, though almost tainted by something with truly staggering power, at the least in the Uriel range, Rory felt like a wizard of Ebenezar's age or more, minus the actual magic which was more than a little worrying. Jack was like Rory, except more so (and more worrying), and the wolf vibe was definitely there. I wondered briefly he was a sort of wolf-were thing, like Tera had been, but no. It didn't fit. And then I noticed something else. Something distinctly elusive. I sighed and reluctantly opened my sight.

"I'm looking at them through the Sight." I murmured to Thomas.

"Is that very wise?" He asked sarcastically.

"Nope." I said, and shrugged.

"See anything?" He asked after a moment. Boy, did I. Amy was laced with a slight tinge of golden light, the power I had sensed earlier, and looked sharper, more hawkish than she normally did, and her hair looked like an iridescent, rolling sheet of flames, as if she had seen her fair share of battle and would be capable of dishing out serious hurt, and then there was a long but slim don't-fuck-with-me scar down the side of her face. And tear tracks. Glowing, gold tinged tears. Frankly, she looked like some sort of Celtic War Goddess, and it would be just my luck to find a divine power unaware of their actual power. Thankfully, it didn't look like it. She just looked like an unusually tough human with more than their share of bad luck. I knew how that felt.

Rory looked like he was wearing old battered Roman armour, with a glowing long sword at his side that looked vaguely familiar, and as he reached for his beer to illustrate a point, who moved with a smooth sureness that smacked of a veteran, and had a couple of long scars on his arms, and a sharp, straight scar across his right hand from just behind the base of his thumb to the other side of his hand. His face, unlike his wife's, looked like it had been carved from granite, with a sort of sadness in care lines that a man his age shouldn't have had. Just what had they both lost? It was something big, to show up in the Sight like that. I resolved to investigate, while being the very soul of tact and discretion.

Jack was dressed in the same clothes, but with numerous scars and rips in the clothing, and more than a few open wounds. The gun at his side was a lot larger and more futuristic, about the size of a small RPG, and his expression was hard, implacable, a little like Rory, and only softened by eyes that sparkled with laughter. What marked all three of them, however was a vague blue glow around all 3 of them, though it was stronger around Amy and Rory.

As for the Doctor… words cannot truly describe what I saw. But I can give it a go. Golden white light emanated from his very being, and he was dressed in what looked like light plate armour with a large variety of very weird symbols and writing on it and a large, ceremonial crest at the back, which looked like someone had taken a just-over half waned moon, turned it so the tines were facing downwards, then added a connecting piece made of some sort of deep red leather, and a flowing burgundy cape with the same symbols, which had clearly seen better days to put it mildly.

He too was covered in wounds, far more than even Jack, some larger than others, some healed into nasty looking scars, most still half open, and he gave the impression that if he walked he would have a limp. Including two, long, jagged gashes over both sides of his upper chest, which cut straight through the armour.

As for his face…it was a sight to make angels weep, though admittedly the ones I had met didn't seem the weeping type. It was like his normal face, but smoother, less human, and as if it had been superimposed over a dozen others. In his eyes was an immense sadness, matched only by an anger fit to break worlds.

The sight absolutely terrified me, and, I regret to say, I collapsed.

"So Jack." The Doctor said, slightly awkwardly, taking a sip of a beer that he privately thought couldn't have been brewed by anything human. The barman of indeterminate age had, however, not been forthcoming.

"So Doc." Jack drawled easily, swigging at his beer.

"How've you been?" The Doctor asked. Damn this regeneration!, he thought. It didn't have half the confidence of his previous 2. Which really mattered when he was dealing with Jack of all people, especially due to his…condition.

Jack performed a one shouldered shrug and sipped at his beer. "Not been doing much since I last saw you. Saved the world again. Without you. And people I cared about died. _Again_." This comment had a bitter edge to it. But the Doctor was ready for it.

"Just because I saved everyone when I first met you Jack, doesn't mean that's what usually happens. Remember Rose." He replied levelly. "Besides, I was busy tracking down my companion's baby daughter who had been kidnapped by the headless monks and some of their associates, and was being kept at Demon's Run."

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Since when have any of your companions had a kid? This pair are married right? I saw rings. And why did they kidnap a child-"

"And Amy. They replaced her with a Flesh duplicate." The Doctor interrupted grimly.

Jack nodded, then continued, "-and risk angering you of all people? You have a reputation Doc."

"I heard." Was the short reply. "The child, um, _began_, on the TARDIS, on their Wedding night. While it was in the Vortex. By chance she was a large part Time Lord. They wanted to turn her into a weapon. Apparently they saw me and wanted an assassin who would be as dangerous."

"I take it from the fact that there is no child around that you failed." Jack said simply. "I would have come if you called. You know that. Anyway, what happened?"

The Doctor bit his lip and looked away. "We took the base itself without a drop of blood spilt, with laser armed space spitfires taking out their communications and Silurians and Judoon covering them when I tricked them into dropping their weapons. It turns out that the baby was also a duplicate. And apparently their daughter is River Song." Jack jolted sharply, looking at the Doctor.

"You've got to be joking she- Oh right, regeneration." The Doctor nodded.

"I meet her in reverse order. My first encounter with her was her last with me. She died saving me. Well, sort of, she's now saved on the computer in the Library. And she's my wife."

Jack spat a mouthful of beer on to the bar, then gave an apologetic look to the barman and pulled a handkerchief with the initials I.J. , then R.I.P. inscribed on it, looked at it for a moment, then cleaned up the beer.

"Yes Jack, despite your evident surprise I am going to get married." The Doctor said glad to have got one over the normally calm and collected Captain.

"Doc, something happened while you were away. The Miracle. We stopped it, but…" Jack fought for words for a moment, then the whole story came out. Shooting down the helicopter, his renewed mortality, being poisoned on a plane, getting to the bottom of the mystery after enlisting the help of two rogue CIA agents, the terrifying truth of the families and the lengths they went to stop them, and finally, Rex's immortality.

"…it hasn't stopped, Doctor. He tried committing suicide a buncha times, I recommended a few methods, but it hasn't stopped. He's acting as Gwen's guard dog at the moment, hunting down the remnants of the Families, and setting up a U.S. version of Torchwood. It keeps him busy. We're trying to get planning permission in one of the big cities, quietly of course, before we go back to the UK. And this is the U.S's third largest city with more than its fair share of weirdness, particularly all the rumours around him," he said, jerking a thumb at Harry. "He's got as big a reputation in his circles as you do in yours. I even heard rumours that he committed genocide against some sort of vamps because they pissed him off big time. Apparently the sheer power of whatever he did caused major property damage down at Chichen Itza."

"So, with all that, how could I not come?" He said, with his cockiest grin. The grin faded as he saw the Doctor was glaring at him.

"What? It's not as if I told him to do what he did, and neither of us knew it was going to happen. By all scientific right, he should be dead. You wanna blame someone? Blame the Families."

Before the Doctor could reply, there was loud thump, as Harry Dresden, professional wizard, slowly keeled over backwards on to the floor, to the surprise and exasperation of his incubus half-brother Thomas Raith, who appeared to have woken up since and had requisitely tousled hair, and was now sighing, lifting Dresden up by one hand, the other clamping an ice pack to his head. This was no mean feat, considering his half-brother was 6 feet and 9 inches of wiry muscle. Jack and Amy admired the way Thomas' muscles moved. Rory merely rolled his eyes at his wife. The Doctor merely looked puzzled as the rest of the patrons looked at the unconscious wizard, then simultaneously put down a few bills to cover their drink/meal and moved hurriedly out the door.

"What happened?" Rory said, ever the nurse, as he dashed to a potential new patient.

"He was looking at you through the Sight. It's an extra sense wizards have. Allows them to see things as they really are." He nodded at the Doctor. "Whatever he saw in you seems to knocked him out."

He looked thoughtful. "Sometimes I wonder if looking drop dead gorgeous is worth the lack of magical power in the heavyweight range." He looked critically at his insensible half-brother for a moment. "Not right now though." He added, plonking his brother face flat on the table.

Blimey, I thought, as I came back into the realm of consciousness. To the sight of Butters staring at me with a surgical mask strapped to his face, and Rory looking straight into my eyes from behind my head. This sight was more than a little worrying, though not quite as worrying as waking up in Mab's lap. Not quite. I looked around, just in case. You only have to have that sprung on you once before you start checking for it. Trust me on that.

So, unlike the first time this had happened, I hadn't leapt up screaming like something out of a Monty Python film.

"Ah, awake and not screaming. A vast improvement on the first time." Butters grinned behind his mask.

I looked around before answering him. The Doctor was scanning me with what I had heard Thomas dub the 'super vibrator'. Now I got a good look at it, the name seemed rather appropriate. Out of a fit of pique, and possibly as a way of getting my own back, I whispered "_Hexus_". The super vibrator let off sparks, and the Doctor glared at me.

"That's what you get for waving a giant vibrator at me while I'm unconscious. How often do I have to tell you people: I'm not interested." I said, levering myself off what turned out to be Murphy's bed. This was probably Thomas' way of making fun of me. Hopefully he had refrained from telling them about my recent history with said bed. Hopefully.

My comment caused Jack to let out a deep rolling belly laugh, and caused Amy to grin and Rory to look vaguely embarrassed. He was probably remembering the hairdressers, poor man. I was wearing my trousers and the shirt I had left behind the last time I was here. My face went bright red, then even redder as Murphy stepped into the room and Jack's knowing grin got even wider. He, it seemed, had picked up the subtext even if no one else had. At least my brother had had the decency not to proclaim my recent sexual activities from the rooftops, but that did not stop me turning to glare at my brother who just grinned shamelessly and gave me a thumbs up. I strode over to him and whispered harshly in his ear.

"Why didn't you take to me to your place?"

"I didn't want to get the upholstery dirty." He whispered with a grin. "Besides, I don't want you, with your uniquely inept way with women, to imply to Murphy that it was a one-time fling. I'm just making sure that my little brother gets laid more than once a decade. I'm really doing this for _your_ benefit, not just for my own amusement."

Bastard. I turned back to Murphy, who had gone pink in response to Jack's knowing grin and his eyes flicking from me and back to her.

"Hey Murph." I said, affecting casualness.

"Hello Harry. I see you managed to collapse after only one drink. Has returning from the dead ruined your tolerance?" She said with a small grin.

"It wasn't the beer. And technically, I wasn't dead."

"That's what they always say." She was having far too much fun with this.

"It wasn't the beer."

"Then what was it?" The razor sharp question hidden in the banter reminded me why Murphy was hands down the best cop I have ever met.

"Um." I replied eloquently, trying to think of an explanation that wouldn't make me sound like a complete sissy.

"He looked at the wrong person through the Sight." Thomas chipped in cheerfully.

"Who asked you?" I said sourly.

"They did." He said, grinning and pointing. Sometimes I _really_ hate my brother.

**Don't forget to click the little button down below. Oh, and I left a little clue to the plot in this chapter. Happy hunting! **


	4. Chapter 4: Revelations and Humour

**A/N: Well it's been a while, but I hit a hot streak with my other main WIP, and had half of this one done for a bit, just not finished. Thank you for waiting.**

The Doctor sighed. He had spent well over a thousand years knowing, not believing, but knowing, that magic wasn't real, or Clarke's 3rd Law applied. And this definitely was NOT, technology. No extant psychic technology in this or any era aside from the Time War could mess with a sonic screwdriver, especially not his model. Sure, a fierce burst of nuclear radiation could fry it, but this was different. It had been broken with a mere act of will and a word. And he had seen more in Thomas's head than he had let on to the others.

Magic was, according to the mind of the psychic vampire, a force, almost like life itself. And then, just before Harry had blasted him, he had seen something disquieting. Proof of the very existence and terrible power of Black Magic, in a flash of a blood soaked Mayan pyramid. He had only got a glimpse, but, if magic was as dangerous as it appeared even when it wasn't perverted and twisted, black magic would be a force to be reckoned with.

He smiled softly, as the baiting-of-the-wizard game continued, the two brothers arguing good naturedly. It could wait. With the image of the blood soaked pyramid had come a strong sense of pity and sadness for Harry, suggesting he had seen or done something truly horrific, and he didn't propose to reawaken bad memories. From his own experience, he knew it was very painful. And besides, there were other ways of finding out about magic.

His thoughts were interrupted by Jack drawling in a way that meant he was planning something embarrassing, "You know, if you two weren't brothers, I'd have you pegged for an old married couple."

Harry and Thomas shared a look, then Thomas burst out laughing wildly, while Harry sat, glowering. Butters looked surprised.

"You never told me!" Butters yelled at Harry, shocked. He merely glowered some more, and said, "It's a secret for a reason. We're half-brothers by mom, and if the secret gets out, we're both screwed."

"So that's why…" Butters said, then blushed. While Harry was glowering and Thomas was laughing, Jack had pulled Bob out of Harry's bag, wearing an utterly evil grin while he did so. The skull's eyes lit up, scanned the roomed, looked from Harry to Murphy and back again. Finally he said, "Molly was right, you are doing the police chick. Score for the wizard! I thought you were never going to laid again."

At this Harry put his head in his hands, in the face of this and the ensuing renewed laughter and muttered despairingly, "I get no respect."

At this point the Doctor intervened, saying, "This is all very amusing, but can we try and work out why my TARDIS lashed out at Thomas and what Harry saw that sent him crashing to the floor."

Jack pouted, and said, "But we're having so much fun." Harry skewered him with a glare, which had no effect whatsoever.

"Hey Harry, why not get with Murphy and Molly at the same time?" Bob enquired. Jack grinned, then catching Murphy's homicidal expression, lobbed Bob in the air ("Whoopee!" Bob yelled) and dived for the relative safety of the bed as an enraged Murphy hit Bob with a flying kick, sending him flying straight into Harry's crotch at ball busting velocity. Harry groaned and folded up, an impressive sight in such a tall man.

"Oh my God Harry!" Murphy said, leaping forward to his aid, eyes wide, torn between concern for his predicament and laughter at the expense of both him and Bob, who had rolled under the bed and was currently swearing in ancient Sumerian, according to the Doctor, who reprimanded him vaguely.

"Glad you're so concerned about my man parts, Murph. I guess every cloud really does have a silver lining." Harry wheezed, then winced as she punched him lightly on the arm.

"Jerk." Then, to their mutual surprise kissed him briefly. She pulled away, blinked, then kissed him again, more passionately and it was reciprocated with equal passion.

What they didn't notice was Jack slyly reach under the bed, shush Bob, and then prop him in an excellent viewing position on a near-by shelf, seen only by Thomas who gave him a thumbs up in response to Jack's wink. The Doctor had ummed and ahhed then left the room very quickly as soon as the kissing started, Amy had started giggling and Rory blushing a fine shade of crimson as Jack and Thomas herded them out and quietly shut the door. Bob watched silently as the happy couple scrappily divested one another of clothing then sighed and moaned, with cries of "Murph!" and "God Harry…" interspersed. If it had been possible he would have grinned, and inside golden palace of his mind, the TV was set to record…

I blinked. Wow. That had been intense, even more intense than the last time I was, ahem, with Susan, when my daughter had been conceived. Normally thinking of Susan would have caused a wave of guilt and sadness, however I was too zonked out on hormones to care. I turned to look at Murphy, who smiled at me wearily.

"You were great Harry." She said, grinning.

"So you were you." I replied. So sue me, I'm not exactly eloquent after sex.

Suddenly Murphy flipped me over so she was straddling my hips. "You up for round two?" She asked suggestively.

Before I could say "Hell Yes", something from out of my very worst nightmares happened.

"Damn, you were right Harry, Murphy has a great ass!" Bob said appreciatively, clearly having been placed on the shelf at some point. We were too surprised to do anything as Bob continued blithely, "and damn me if you two weren't athletic. I've never seen anyone's panties be thrown all the way to the door knob." I looked. A pair of light blue panties was indeed hanging off the door handle. Fancy that, I thought dazedly.

Then I began to think again. Since I had last heard Bob roll under the bed swearing in ancient Sumerian all the while, and that meant someone had to have fished him out and put him there, I deduced as Murphy and I shared a shocked look, she finally being able to move. I quickly ran down the list of suspects, and quickly worked out that it was one of two people, as muffled snickering broke out on the other side of the door.

"JACK! THOMAS!" I roared, then realised my mistake when both burst in, laughing their heads off. Murphy squeaked and grabbed the bed sheets that had been thrown off, and then glared at me reproachfully.

Jack leered as my brother grinned. "See, told you so." He said. I hate it when he's right.

"Which one of you gave Bob a front row seat?" I growled. In response my brother merely whistled, caught my eye and winked briefly flicking his eyes at Jack who was currently grinning like the Cheshire Cat. Or what it would have looked like if the Cheshire Cat had had voyeuristic tendencies.

I restrained myself from burning him to cinders with difficulty. Murphy, who had somehow managed to put her clothes on, leastwise her shirt and jeans, and was advancing on Jack with a homicidal expression. Thomas had apparently decided that discretion was the best part of valour and was unobtrusively sidling away, moving away with the sort of quietness I usually only saw in Mister (No, I am never going to let the comparison between cats and White Court drop). Jack was still grinning. Bad move. Murphy doesn't take anything she sees as being patronised well and that sort of grin was right at the top of the list. Since she wasn't wearing a bra, and her shirt was tight, I decided to enjoy the view of Murphy's bust while I fumbled about for my boxers and other clothing. Sometimes being tall and thus having a very long reach has immense advantages, I thought, as Murphy advanced on Jack.

"Do you want to wipe that stupid look off your face?" Murphy said very quietly. Uh-Oh. Not good. Murphy only gets that tone when she is really pissed. I braced myself for a crunch. Hopefully Murphy would leave him a few teeth.

"Um, nope." Jack said, with that cocky grin still on his face. He looked far too amused, and for someone who had knocked me out so expertly, and held his gun like he knew how to use it he should have been worried. Murphy once went through most of the Red Court of Vampires (now defunct) with only a sword, albeit a sword of the Cross and some assistance from one of the big guns. She also messed up an ogre big time. With a chainsaw. In short, Murph is badass. I winced pre-emptively on Jack's behalf as Murph's hand whipped towards his midriff. I shouldn't have bothered.

Moving faster than anyone living short of Kincaid, Jack twisted, and grabbed Murphy's arm, pulling her into a gentle but firm half nelson. She barely hesitated in reply as she whirled out of the lock and threw him over her hip, causing him to slap the ground and roll, popping up like a Jack-in the box. Yes, I did mean that. Thank God Murph has a large bedroom, I thought.

Murphy began hammering blows in a rain of kicks and punches and other blows, any of which would have floored another opponent within moments. But Jack just blocked each and every one, never attacking until he suddenly dropped and scythed his leg around in a sharp semi-circle, toppling Murphy, who he carefully caught around the waist, lowering her to the floor. Hells frikkin bells he was good! And he was still smiling, but not cockily anymore but admiringly.

"Damn, you're good." He said, clearly impressed.

She looked up at him as she flicked some hair that had fallen in front of her eyes, surprised, "But I didn't land a hit on you. What was that? Some weird aikido, some judo and something else entirely."

"The last person who landed blow on me in a genuine fight knew me very well, and was almost as fast as I am. You're the first modern human to come anywhere near." Jack replied casually. "And you're right; it was a variant of aikido. I'll show you sometime."

She put her hands on her hips, and scowled slightly. I knew Murph well enough to know this stance meant, I'm impressed, but not impressed enough to forget that you dodged a question.

Thomas meanwhile had been just as surprised as I was. He was a vampire of the White Court, and a powerful one, easily facing down an ancient fetch of the Winter fae with nothing but a cavalry sabre. And even he would have avoided a confrontation with Murphy. Now he whistled long and low, and asked, "How are you that fast? Don't say you work out, no one completely human is that fast."

"He's immortal. That's why." Bob said, with the satisfaction of revealing an absolute bombshell. Before he'd even finished his sentence, Jack's revolver was out of its holster and pointed at Bob.

He thumbed back the hammer, and said coldly, totally contrasting with his earlier attitude, "That's a secret for a very good reason. Only one other person who might fall into your world knows it. And she's probably dead by now."

"Whoa, down boy. Calm down. No one in this room, or out of it is going to use it against you." I said in a placating tone of voice. "Besides, as annoying as he is, he's useful and I don't know how to legally get hold of another skull to enchant for him."

Jack glared at Bob for a long moment, then lowered the revolvers hammer and holstered it once more.

"Sorry. After being dissected and experimented on whilst alive and conscious, then used as a general meatshield against the worst the universe has to offer for roughly a century makes you a little paranoid."

I and Thomas winced simultaneously, and then Murphy, frowning asked the question we all wanted answered. "How?"

Jack looked pained. "For me it was well over 2000 years ago. And I spent most of that buried under Cardiff. Chronologically speaking, it was in the year 200,100. I was travelling with the Doctor and a companion of his, a pretty girl called Rose Tyler. She wasn't more than 20 years old. I was once a charming con man, and they made me better. A hero, even. Or at least I used to be." This last part was said bitterly. "Anyway, the Doctor looked different back then. His kind change their faces when they're about to die. Regeneration. It changes all the cells in the body, changes appearance, personality, everything except memories. It was two bodies ago, his 9th, or 9th known anyway, and he was a bit taller maybe and older looking. And when he was in a bad mood… he looked like he was carved out of granite. That one was very angry a lot of the time, though if what I heard about the Time War is right, he had every reason to be."

I was about to ask him about this 'Time War', but he waved away my enquiries. "It's not for me to say. In 200,100 we were orbiting the Earth on Satellite 5, a TV satellite. It had warped versions of modern TV shows, ones that appeared to kill the losers. What actually happened to them was far, far worse. They, and the refugees, the criminals, the poor, all those who wouldn't be missed on Earth were being taken, no, harvested, by an ancient and cruel alien race. Monsters called Daleks, like outer space Nazi's, but on a whole other level, that lived in a mini tank contraption. Anything that wasn't Dalek was immediately exterminated, and they were ruled by an emperor, a survivor of the Time War and the only true Dalek left. It thought it was a God. They had been manipulating Earth via Satellite 5 for at least a century, and they decided to attack. I led the defence, with guns that only managed to take out one Dalek eyestalk. We were buying time for the Doctor to build a Delta wave, a sort of DIY superweapon. With a big enough transmitter you can fry the brains of anything that gets in its way. Unfortunately, he finished it but didn't refine it. It would have killed everyone on Earth along with the Daleks. Oh yeah, and they were terrified of him, and this from creatures with no emotion but hate. The Daleks killed me, last man standing, then moved onto the Doctor." Jack paused.

I was reeling. Time travel, aliens (sure, I knew about the Doctor, but still), and the very concept of DIY superweapons. Murphy had plonked herself down on a nearby chair, having had the presence of mind to fish her panties off the door knob, and Thomas looked pained. It all sounded so ridiculous, but there was a quality to his voice that made you believe him.

"He was surrounded, and refused to use the Delta wave. The Dalek fleet was already invading Earth. Rose had been sent home in the TARDIS, the Doctor's time machine and space ship. Among other things it's a lot bigger than it looks and disturbingly sentient. We needed a miracle. And we got one. Rose looked into the heart of the TARDIS, and it gave her the power of the whole Time Vortex, the power to create or destroy. She was as close to omnipotent as it was possible to be, but she had only a little control over it. This power was being controlled by a 20 year old girl, and she destroyed the Dalek fleet to save the Doctor. She didn't just destroy them; she separated them into their constituent atoms and wiped them from existence. Then she brought me back, but overdid it a little. I can die, but I heal faster and when I do die, I come back. Usually quite quickly. I have a mini time machine," Here he paused to wave his vortex manipulator, "and aimed for early 21st century earth, 'cos that's where the Doctor usually turns up. But I overshot and got the late 19th century instead. Got picked up by Torchwood, buried alive for 2000 years by my insane little brother… briefly became mortal as everyone else became immortal, and now I'm here." Jack had paused momentarily in his story. Only briefly, but all present noticed.

"…Wow." I said after a few moments. "That reminds me, I need to check in with the Wardens, and tell them that the Doctor is on the side of the angels and not worth worrying about or messing with."

Thomas caught my emphasis on the 'not', and looked at me questioningly, so I explained. "Apparently Mab is scared of him. He may look like a gibbering idiot but-"

"So do you?" Murphy interrupted, good humour clearly restored. Thomas smirked his approval, but Jack was eying me up, this time evaluating, and not in a sexual manner.

"Actually she's right. You are a little like the Doctor. Wise yet a 'gibbering idiot' as you put it, far more dangerous than you look, propensity for attracting gorgeous women and being oblivious about it," here Jack winked. Clearly Thomas had given him the Cliff Notes summary of my sex life. "And with a reputation that causes armies to turn and run at the mention of your name. I don't think even the Doctor has ever ridden a zombified T-Rex into battle. Yet."

"First time for everything." Rory muttered, walking into the room, Amy close behind. Then he absolutely ruined what post coital glow I had left by staring deep into my eyes and initiating a soul gaze.

Each soulgaze is different. Some are beautiful, some terrible. And you never, ever forget anything you see. I saw Rory, standing behind Amy, like a small moon to her sun, diffident, quiet and mostly harmless. Then I passed through a locked door and saw him again, a marked change in his bearing evident. He was grim faced and dressed as a Roman centurion, standing guard in front of a blue box, sword drawn. I saw hundreds of people try to open the box and examine, all fended off by the Centurion, including one where he faced 3 knights Templar at once, not sustaining a scratch in a ferocious duel, eventually resorting to some strange cannon in his arm, folding out from the scar I had seen his hand in the Sight.

I saw him standing implacably protecting the box, facing down all manner of historical characters, then to my utter shock, staring down the current Merlin. Langtry was clearly younger and trying to persuade Rory to stand aside, eventually pointing his staff (no sniggering) at the Centurion threateningly, causing Rory to draw his sword faster than seemed possible, hacking the staff in two. That was a memory to savour. Not that I have an unreasonable grudge against the Merlin. I have a perfectly reasonable grudge against him, if you think that being willing to kill a completely repentant and redeemable warlock out of sheer spite at yours truly is a good cause for a grudge.

Later I saw him proudly cradling a baby, Amy hugging him. I also saw him punching Hitler, and begun to wonder if Godwin's Law now extended to Soulgazes. But the overall impression I got was that Rory was solid as a rock, dependable, courageous and someone who would hold their corner throughout. The sort of person I would value as a friend.

The Soulgaze broke, and I staggered back onto the bed. Rory had grabbed onto the wall and was looking at me in total pity. He walked up to me and, surprisingly, hugged me fiercely, whispering, "I Saw Chichen Itza. I know how it feels."

I blinked a couple of times. "Thanks." I said lamely. At least now I had an explanation for how he looked through the Sight.

The Doctor looked on as Rory and Harry locked gazes. Some sort of telepathy passed between them, and the stayed stock still.

"Doctor, what's happening?" Amy asked quietly.

"Soulgaze." Thomas answered briefly. "Then eyes aren't just the windows to the soul, they're the doors." The vampire then looked vaguely puzzled at Amy's suppressed squeak, which drew an arm round the shoulder from the Doctor, who mouthed 'Bad Experience' at Thomas over her head. "They'll be fine though. It doesn't usually last this long, and will feel a lot longer to them. And when you See someone's soul in a Soulgaze, you never, ever forget it."

At that very moment, the Soulgaze broke, sending both participants stumbling, Harry onto the bed and Rory against a wall. Then Rory strode across the room and gave Harry a rib cracking hug, whispering something. Harry bemusedly gave his thanks.

"Now I'd really better check in with the Wardens before they start thinking I'm dead. Again." Harry said, with a smile tinged with sadness, ambling out. Soon he could be heard talking into a phone. The Doctor decided that eavesdropping was always fun.

"….Hi Captain, I wanted to talk to you about the Blue Box mystery. I've found it and it's owner, right next to Mac's actually. What? No, he's on the side of the angels and not worth messing with." He heard Harry say. A questioning voice with a slight Italian accent could be heard coming from the phone.

"You want an example?" Harry said, slightly impatiently, "According to a very reliable source, one that's never led me wrong, Mab, yes, Mab is scared stiff of him. And if she's scared of him, it's really not worth messing with him. He seems a bit kooky, but I looked at him through the Sight… well, the closest I've seen to him is a Knight of the Cross, you know, Murphy, and the Archangel Uriel when he got pissed at me."

The word Dio, could be heard, as well as a large selection of impressive Italian swearwords at top volume, which continued for an entire minute.

"You done? Good. What, no, you don't need to come out here. Yes, I know it's only half an hour by the Ways but still." Harry said, now somewhat exasperated, then listened as a short and firm reply came down the phone.

"Alright, alright. I'm at Murph's house, so is he. And give your word not to hurt him, unless he attacks you." Harry said firmly. An exasperated stream of Italian came down the phone, causing Harry to hold it away from his ear and wince, then finally a grudging assent.

"Good. See you in an hour." Harry put the phone down and sighed.

The Doctor slipped away from the door as Harry came back through with practiced ease, though he had to twist to catch a teetering vase.

"Okay guys, the Captain's coming down, she wants a look at the Doctor."

"Why would she be interested in me?" The Doctor asked, then looked puzzled when his companions and Bob started sniggering.

"When I said the words, 'Mab is terrified of him', I think I got her attention. Anything that scares the Winter Queen is most definitely worth the Council's time." Harry said dryly. "She doesn't bite… much."

Thomas immediately grinned, and opened his mouth. "Button it pretty boy." Murphy warned him, seeing the innuendo that he had pounced on like a cat with a string. Jack just grinned, as Amy blinked a couple of times in comprehension and Rory rolled his eyes with a long suffering sigh. Bob, not wanting to risk another high speed collision with Harry's crotch, no matter how entertaining the results, kept his peace and stayed uncharacteristically silent.

"Anyway, she'll be here in an hour, so everyone make yourselves presentable, Bob, you're a knick knack till further notice." Harry announced, wandering back in. To Bob's disappointment, Murphy had slipped her bra and panties on in the bathroom in the meantime, and she was now sitting on the edge of the bed, watching Harry.

"Aw, Boss, you do this every time a beautiful woman comes into view!" Bob whined, rattling slightly in place.

"Tough Bob, she knows exactly what you are and once were, and I have enough things to deal with. You hitting on the Captain then being zapped would be more than I could manage. Besides you would have to spend at least a month inside Mister or a box in the lab."

"Ok." Bob said, sulking.

"Now, I'm calling Molly, my apprentice of sorts, over. I figure she would be interested and it does apprentices good to occasionally meet something completely out of their power range. Everyone, including the Captain knows that Thomas and I are brothers, so there are no problems on that score. Back in a mo." Harry said, ducking out to phone Molly.

Now, all there was to do was to wait.

**Enjoy? Please review.**


	5. Chapter 5: Impossible is what I do

**A/N: I own nothing except my insane plots. **

**Hmm: You seem to be greatly misjudging Harry's character. I specifically mentioned the encounter with Mab, and Harry isn't the sort to screw a woman he doesn't love, let alone conceive a child that would grow up in the Winter Court. Also, the UST between him and Murphy's been building since at least book 6.**

For the second time in almost as many minutes I picked up the phone, this time to call Molly. The phone rang, then the grasshopper picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hello, this is evocation pizzas, service with a smile and a bang." I replied. Banter is an important part of being a wizard.

"Hi sensei." She said dryly. "Where are you?"

That was the question I'd been dreading. Molly was a very attractive young woman, and had been interested in me for some time, but among other things, her father is one of my oldest friends and I've known her since before such things as bra's, boys and makeup had really crossed her mind. Plus her mom is very Scary. She deserves the capital 'S', especially since she once hamstrung an elder fetch of the Winter Court. The thought of what she would do to me if she thought I had broken her little girl's heart brought me out in a cold sweat.

"Um, Murphy's place. Luccio's coming down from Edinburgh, she wants to see the core of the blue box mystery."

I could almost hear her brow furrowing. "The captain? Here? Why?"

"It's someone called the Doctor. To give you an idea about how Badass he is, he scares Mab. Sure, he wears a ridiculous amount of tweed, but that makes like some sort of super Giles. He isn't human and if you know what he's capable of, he's very scary." I said.

There was a long silence, then Molly said, "Why does all the crazy shit happen _here_? It's like the Sunnydale of the north!"

"Yeah, right down to the ridiculous number of vampires," I muttered, secretly rather glad that she seemed to have ignored the revelation of where I was.

"And it's good you're getting some again. You were getting _way _too wound up." Molly said in a half cheerful half upset voice. The cheerful part because she was genuinely happy for me and the upset part because she wished it was her.

"Look, grasshopper…"

"We both know why you won't, and frankly I don't want to bring it up again." Molly said flatly. "I'll be over in 20 minutes."

I sighed and nodded, said, "See you then," and put down the phone.

I turned and walked into Murphy's kitchen and was greeted by the sight of the Doctor cheerfully dipping fish fingers into what appeared to be a bowl of custard.

"Fish fingers in custard! Earth's greatest dish by far!"

I just stared at him. Murphy looked despairingly up at me and said, "Only you, Harry, only you could have a life this… this _weird_."

I didn't reply, just stared at the Doctor, then shrugged and sat down. One thing had been bugging me ever since Bob had given me the low down on the Doctor, and I intended to ask the question I'd been dying too.

"So Doctor, why are you here? Bob says you generally turn up in a crisis," I asked, and his grim expression sent a cold shiver down my spine.

"Yes. I've been following a series of ritual sacrifices of young children and teenagers, none older than 18. It started in Britain, then moved to Canada and down to the USA. The pattern showed that here would be next. If it follows the pattern, it should be tomorrow evening, and the child will be kidnapped that same day. My advice would be to keep a very close eye on any children you have," The Doctor said, looking at me with a worrying intensity. He knew. I was certain of it.

"Murphy, could you call Michael, and pass on my recommendation that he keep all of his children inside tomorrow and tonight. Also, could you call Tilly and ask him if there's a possibly supernatural or ritual dimension to the killings the Doctor just mentioned?" I asked quietly.

She scowled, but it was a fairly token scowl, not one that had she been a practitioner would have incinerated me on the spot. She's really good at those scowls. Personally, I think they're kind of sweet, but since I wish to retain my balls, I don't mention it. Then she nodded and went to make the calls. I may or may not have admired her ass on the way out.

I had just picked up a coke and taken a deep swig when Jack said casually, "So, after this is all over… orgy?" I performed a perfect spit take, the Doctor went scarlet, Amy's eyes widened, Thomas grinned at everyone else and Rory shrugged. Nothing, it seemed, fazed Rory Williams. Except threats to his family and being called 'Pond'.

"I wouldn't object, unless Harry was involved, because… well, ick," Thomas said. Everyone stared at him. "What? I'm a White Court Vampire, not a totally immoral debauched hedonist!"

Everyone continued starting at him, and I said, "There's a difference?"

"Fine. I'm a totally debauched hedonist with _some _morals," Thomas said.

"I thought you didn't like men," I said. "Not that it's wrong, I'm just a little puzzled."

Thomas shrugged. "I'm flexible."

Jack leered. "I bet you are."

I felt like I was about to be sick, as did Rory by the looks of things. Amy looked deeply interested, and I couldn't really blame her. If it had been, say, Molly (what? I'm in love, not dead) and Lara flirting, I would be looking.

Murphy poked her head back round the door and said, "Harry, Tilly thinks he's found something, but he's emailing the photo's to me. He also says, and I quote 'if you find the bastards responsible and kill them, I'll help you hide the bodies'."

I raised an eyebrow. "Tell him if I need help with body disposal, he'll be the first person I call."

Murphy nodded and relayed the message. Then she said, "Cool. Thanks Tilly," then went to her computer.

A few minutes later, she poked her head in, looking grim. "Tilly just emailed me the photos. And I now completely get why he would condone murder," she said, walking in and handing them over. I grimaced. I had seen many murder scenes, most of them horrible, but very rarely had they involved children. Or at least, not like this.

The poor kid had had arcane looking sigils that I vaguely recognised as being signs that drained life force (the very thought of magic being perverted in such a manner made me sick. Magic is life and this was just… _wrong_) and some strange circular symbols that I couldn't recognise for the life of me carved into their flesh and then had their throat cut.

Some of the same symbols were painted in the victim's blood on the walls of wherever they were murdered. The CSI reports attached also mentioned scratches on the floor like some sort of tripod. I ground my teeth. Whoever had done this would pay. If it was a Warlock, I'd even consider swinging the sword myself. No one hurts the innocent on my watch. _No one._ I then realised that I had said those last two sentences aloud. And loudly.

"Looks like some sort of energy draining ritual, with some stuff I don't recognise," I said curtly. The Doctor snatched the pictures out of my hands, and his face… well, let's just say that I know dangerous and the Doctor was currently hovering about Mab level. Then he cast the pictures aside like they were poisoned, and looked not just angry, but… frightened. And despairing.

"The other stuff is Old High Gallifreyan. The lost language of the Time Lords. It says, 'Come and get me Doctor," he said in a cold, dead voice. Jack now looked terrified.

"It's the Master isn't it, D-" he said before the Doctor cut him off.

"No Jack, it's not him." As Jack breathed a sigh of relief, he added, "it's worse."

"… Worse?" Jack said.

"The Master was willing to work with me to stop him, he was so scared of him," the Doctor said.

"Oh God," Jack breathed.

"Who are you talking about?" Amy asked.

"The Master's an insane Time Lord. He took over the Earth completely, killed hundreds of millions of people with mad humans from the end of time itself as minions, enabled by turning the TARDIS into a paradox machine. In one day. He was as brilliant as the Doctor, and as cruel as the Doctor is kind, his opposite. He also spent a year practicing his torture techniques on me. The Doctor channelled the psychic power of the entire planet to stop him, thanks to this brilliant woman called Martha Jones, who walked the earth during the Year That Never Was, telling people stories about the Doctor. Last I heard he was dead, his wife shot him," Jack answered, not missing the Doctor's lips twist in a bitter smile.

He turned to the Doctor, and said, "Doctor, what Time Lord could be worse?"

"Me. My worst possible future self," the Doctor said flatly. "The Time Lords took what was essentially all my darkness when I was in my sixth body and formed it into a person. In exchange for his help in condemning me in a court of law, they would give him my body. I beat him and made it so he never existed but… he's me. He'll always find a way to come back." He looked up at a horrified Amy (Rory was doing his best stoic expression, though I could see the horror in his eyes. Honestly, the guy could have done Oz on Buffy to perfection if he'd been born a few years earlier) and said, "You two have met him, or something similar. The Dream Lord. The Valeyard is infinitely more dangerous."

"But… you can never stand to see a child in pain. I've seen you, you'll go out of your way and do the impossible, risk your own _life_ just because you couldn't bear to see a child cry. You took _Demons Run_, the most secure military base in the Universe because me and… Melody were in danger, without spilling a drop of blood!" Amy said, sounding lost. I winced inwardly. I recognized that look on her face. It was exactly the one I'd worn when I'd realised that Ebenezar was the Blackstaff.

"Ah Amy. I never told you about the Time War, did I?" the Doctor said sadly. "I fought in the Last Great Time War, against the Dalek Empire, a war so terrible the Time Lords resurrected the Master to fight. I commanded the Time Lord armies at Arcadia and the First Battle of Gallifrey. I spilt the blood of _millions_, not just Daleks. And in the end, the Time Lord's grew desperate. They resurrected Rassilon, one of the founders of our society. And he came up with a plan to save the Time Lords. They purposefully drove the Master insane."

Jack in particular looked horrified. The Doctor carried on.

"They sent the drums, four beats constantly repeating, back through time and implanted them in the head of an eight year old child. Everything he has done since then can be laid at their feet. Then they tried to use the signal to pull Gallifrey out of the Time War, at the cost of all of reality. I stopped them cold. I used a variation on ancient weapon called the De mat gun. I called it the Moment. One moment of fire and blood in which Gallifrey, the Time Lords, and almost all the Daleks were obliterated from Time. I heard my people, my family scream down below, and I turned away. I became _Ka Faraq Gatri_, the Destroyer of Worlds, and I turned away in shame. I'm a mad old man in a blue box, Amelia Pond. A mad old man who destroys lives, worlds, civilisations and hurts those he loves worst of all. I'm not a hero, I'm a monster who committed genocide against his own people. My parents, my brothers and sisters, my children and my grandchildren. All dead. Because of me. And that is only the beginning," he finished heavily.

I staggered back in shock, much like everyone else, then rallied. No matter what the Doctor had done in his past, what I had seen in the Sight had not been a monster. "Doctor. The day you stop feeling that pain is the day you stop being a hero. Not before."

He looked at me and smiling sadly, said, "Oh, Harry Dresden. The bravest of brave men, the scourge of the Underworld, protector of Chicago, the wise man who plays the fool. The man who never turns down a call for help. You're a great man. But you don't understand."

"Bullshit!" I snapped. "Don't give me the mere mortals speech! I looked at you through the Sight, and you know what I saw? A hero. A hero who hurts, with two broken hearts, who bleeds from countless wounds and _still keeps fighting_. Nothing hides from the Sight, Doctor, nothing. For all your power and brilliance, you're as human as the rest of us. Figuratively speaking," I said as he was about to protest.

"Which means that sometimes you're a complete idiot! Even if the rest of the Universe sees you as the worst evil there is, you're a hero to us! Think about everyone you've saved, every life you've made better, everyone whose asked for help and received it. Then tell me you're a monster."

The Doctor looked at me for a long moment, then at Murphy and asked, "Permission to hug?"

"Granted," she said, smiling slightly, and the Doctor hugged me tightly. I blinked, then hugged him back.

"Stop," I said and sniffed, "bugs are flying into my eyes."

Murphy snorted and muttered, "idiot."

"But one with long, strong fingers," I replied, waggling said fingers, and she blushed, punching my shoulder while Jack and Thomas grinned and Amy giggled. Honestly, from the way they acted, you'd think it was those two who were brothers.

"You two keep on with the bromance hugging thing," Murphy said, "I'm going for a walk in the garden."

Mature wizard that I am, I stuck my tongue out at her. She snickered and walked out. As I let the Doctor go about thirty seconds later, and he wandered off to do God alone knows what – probably tinker with one of Murphy's appliances, he seemed to like doing that – shooting a grateful look back at me. Then I heard a scream of fury and pain from the garden, and I think I broke the landspeed record on my way out the door, grabbing my conveniently placed staff.

The sight that confronted me was of Deirdre, in full Madame Medusa mode slashing at Murphy, who was doing an admirable job of doing the steel tendrils. And while Murphy is, as Sanya puts it, 'Tiny but fierce', the tiny part counts against her in a physical tussle with something from the spooky side of things.

While Murphy's aikido skills are terrifying at close quarters, and as any at Chichen Itza could attest, with Fidelacchius in hand, she was the next best thing to unstoppable. But right now, she was unarmed and on the run. One of the tendrils had already drawn blood from her stomach and Murphy had one hand clasped to the wound while she looked for a way to get round Deirdre and back into the house. Another tendril flicked out and caught her on the arm, leaving a deep cut. And, to put it mildly, I lost my temper.

"Oi! DADDY'S LITTLE DENARIAN! STAB THIS!" I shouted, then as Deirdre turned around, both sets of eyes looking at me, I roared, "_FULMENAS!_"

Now, normally I prefer fire, or failing that, force. But when it comes fire and force, I'm necessarily all that precise, and frying or squashing Murphy was a big no-no. And I am also reasonably good at wind magic. When properly motivated. And I sure as hell was motivated. A silvery-white lightning bolt as thick as a Monster Truck issued from the tip of my staff, hitting Deirdre at about Mach 2, sending her flying at least 300 feet away, screaming like something out of a video game. I half expected to hear the words, 'DAMN YOU DRESDEN!' As she went flying away. As it was, I wasn't particularly bothered and ran to Murphy.

"Murph! Are you all right?" I asked frantically.

"No," she said with difficulty. "Idiot." I noticed that she coughed up some blood at that point. The gut wound was far worse than I'd thought.

"Stay with me Murph," I muttered, tearing off my shirt and using it as an impromptu bandage. At the sounds of the short fight, Jack, Butters, Thomas and Rory came running out, closely followed by just about everyone else. The Doctor was looking grim.

"Let me through," Rory snapped. "I'm a nurse." He glanced up at me and explained as he examined the wound, "I'd have treated you earlier, but figured you'd want to wake up to a familiar face."

I nodded curtly. "I don't care why you did it, just fix her," I said.

"She's bleeding out," Jack muttered. "I'll go and get the first aid kit."

Rory was checking Murphy's pulse, then he check the wound. Finally, grim expression on his face, he said, "You'd best say your goodbyes. I've seen wounds like this before."

Murphy was dying. "Goodbye Dresden," Murphy mumbled. Then she cracked a slight smile. "You got that bitch _good_."

"I did, didn't I?" I said. "Stay with me Murphy, or I will die and mock you forever for dying like a sissy girl."

"I'm dying Dresden. Accept it. Everyone has their time, and I'm long overdue," Murphy said, coughing up some more blood. "I -" She tried to speak, but she couldn't.

I looked her in the eye and said, "I know. And I say this: _**FUCK THAT!**_"

Then I did the most dangerous and stupid thing I could possibly do. I called up as much soulfire as I could handle, then more and more. I'm pretty certain that by the time I was done, I was glowing. Certainly I was an impressive sight judging by how Rory, Amy, Butters and Thomas were gaping. The Doctor was just eyeing me with narrowed eyes, I noted absently.

Now, the rules of magic say that you can't really heal. Burn out illnesses, clean wounds and even heal minds if you're deft enough, but not heal outright wounds of the body. Another rule is you have to use a different language from your magic, or your risk major brain damage. Breaking both is supposed to be fatal. And impossible. I've never really been one for rules and impossible is what I do for a living.

I put my staff aside, laid my hands on her stomach and closed my eyes. "_Heal_," I whispered, shoving all the power I was holding into Murphy. She bucked off the ground as I poured more and more into her, glowing brighter and brighter. I could feel the Soulfire coming and coming, as if there was whole other power source, knitting flesh and bone back together seamlessly, the matrices of energy holding the natural shape of the body while more power forced the body to replicate it. Sort of like recreating a colour by numbers sheet from a picture, then filling it in. When the blinding light dimmed, Murph's stomach and arm were as clear and smooth as they had always been. I looked up at the shocked expressions of everyone watching (though the Doctor appeared to be grinning and mouthing 'brilliant! Just brilliant!').

I heard Butters whisper, "Holy _shit!_"

Then I said woozily, "How's that for a magic trick?" And as my world went black, I could have sworn that I heard a female voice speak. _Anything I can, my host_, it said.


End file.
